The Beginning
by Dominate
Summary: Weasleys are dying, Harry is lonely. Hermione is crazy, but it's all good.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

_"Welcome home, hun." Hermione said as she placed a fresh bottle of wine in front of Ron._

_"Thanks, Herm." He replied gratefully, it was painfully obvious what his job at the ministry of magic was doing to him._

_Hermione grinned._

_"What's a wife for?" She asked sarcastically while grabbing a glass from the cabinet to her left._

_Ron looked up at her._

_"Hermione," He said happily, standing up to hug her as she placed the glass on the table next to the bottle. "You are too good to me.'_

_"Of course not, Ronnikens!" She replied. "I just know how to treat men." _

_Ron glared, though he lacked the menace that they both knew Draco Malfoy still possessed._

_Hermione hugged Ron and poured the wine into the glass behind Ron's back._

_"Watcha doin?" Ron asked._

_"Pouring you some wine, you look like you could use some." Hermione replied as Ron released her and she put the cork back into the bottle and fiddled with a ring on her finger._

_"Where'd you get that?" Ron asked her._

_"This old thing?" Hermione asked, indicating a ring on her finger with a five-pointed star on it. "I've had this since forever, I thought it was pretty." _

_"Aren't you going to have some?" Ron asked._

_"Sure." Hermione said as she grabbed a glass and poured some into it._

_"To us!" She said, raising her near-full glass._

_With a soft clink that seemed to reverberate through the well-stocked kitchen, Ron raised his glass and repeated Hermione before raising his glass to his lips in unison with Hermione and drinking almost the entire glass._

_"Have you heard from Harry lately?" Hermione asked, placing the glass on the table and sitting down next to Ron at the kitchen table._

_"Not lately, I've seen him at work and he seemed a bit ruffled." Ron replied._

_"Ruffled?" Hermione asked, worried tone securely in place._

_"Yeah, almost like his mind were in a million places at once and, you remember when he slept on our couch for a week after breaking up with Cho?" He asked._

_"Yeah." Hermione replied, sounding even more worried than before._

_"He is starting to look like that again." Ron said softly. "How old was that wine Hermione?"_

_"I dunno, Ron. Has Harry said anything to you about anything that might be bothering him?"_

_"No, he's been pretty silent all week. I think I'm going to be sick.." Ron stood up but immediately fell back into his chair._

_"What's wrong, Ron?"_

_"The whole room, it's spinning... I've got a terrible pain in my stomach... How old is that wine?" He asked again._

_"I don't think it's the wine Ron." Hermione said, her tone sounding stretched and uneven._

_"What do you mean?" Ron asked, his voice cracking._

_Hermione lifted her hand to Ron's eye level, and indicated the ring before flipping it open and revealing a small space inside._

_"It's not just Pagans who have poison rings, Ron." Hermione said softly._

_Ron slid onto the floor with a soft flump, his eyes glassy._

_"Good night ickle Ronnikens..."_

"_Where do you think you're going, young man?" Narcissa Malfoy demanded, the usual sneer in place and the usual hand raised in what effeminately wasn't going to be a salute._

"_I'm leaving." Draco said simply. "I'm tired of this place…All of it."_

"_How dare you speak in that tone to me, young man!" Narcissa shot back._

_Draco picked up his bags and started towards the door, but Narcissa stood firmly in his way._

"_Listen mum," he said with malice, "I have a job, I have my own Gringotts account, and in fact I have my own apartment! And right now, it's calling my name so, if you'll excuse me…"_

"_You have an apartment? Without my permission!" _

"_Why yes, yes I do." Draco said noncommittally. _

_Narcissa glared._

"_Of course without your permission! You know as well as I do that if you gave me permission then father would blame you."_

_Narcissa softened fractionally._

"_But if I just flat out left then he can be free to hate me in peace when he gets out of Azkaban, and not let off his steam on you." Draco said softly._

_Narcissa lowered her head and her silver-blonde hair rushed forward in a tide to hide her watering eyes._

_Draco dropped his bags and reached forward with one hand to brush the hair out of his mother's face._

"_Don't worry, mum, I'll write you every day. I'm nineteen, it's about time that I left." Draco said as he leaned into his mother's opening arms._

"_I do love you, son, you can come back anytime." Narcissa said shakily._

_Draco eyed the bruises that he could see on his mother's pale shoulders._

"_No I can't…" _

_Harry eyed his apartment coldly, he couldn't stand the place anymore._

_Harry turned his head towards the couch and for a brief moment the flickering memory of Cho Chang sprawled across it sent shivers down his spine._

_He could still hear her laughter, like the sound of soft tinkling bells…_

_Harry walked in the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, pulled out a container of mustard and closed the refrigerator immediately. _

"_No matter how delicious, mustard doesn't count as a meal, Harry." He scolded himself, as he turned around._

_He could still see Cho with the Chefs hat the she bought from the flea market, her hands firmly wrapped in pot holders, leaning over the oven and pulling out the Christmas ham while trying to blow that one annoying strand of hair out of her eyes._

_Suddenly her tinkling laughter turned into a much more annoying ringing noise…_

_The phone was ringing._

"_Rubbish." Harry said as he reached forward with his free hand to grab the phone and raise it to his ear._

"_Hello." He said testily, whoever it was should've left him alone…_

_Harry's eyes widened and the mustard fell to the floor with a clatter as Harry's mouth fell open and his eyes fogged._

"_Ron's what!"_

_Draco Malfoy was always cold._

_This simple fact had always managed to surprise his family. And as he sat huddled in front of his too-small space heater he was reminded of when his father had found the small muggle heater under his bed when he was nine._

_Draco didn't remember where he had gotten it but he remembered how warm and happy it made him feel. Something about being surrounded by the oh-so-comforting warmth that just made him feel good._

_Unfortunately his father didn't agree, it was a muggle appliance, and that made it below Malfoy standards._

_After that, Draco had learned to cope with the cold and it now resided in his skin._

_Draco sighed._

_His father had spent the last few years in and out of Azkaban for various things, assault with a deadly weapon, assault and battery… But somehow, he always seemed to get himself out of it somehow. _

_Lucius Malfoy was still every bit as frightening as he was._

_Draco looked around his sparsely decorated apartment._

"_Great!" He said sarcastically, in the direction of his empty refrigerator. "I've given up the mansion life to life in a rubbishy apartment that isn't even fully decorated!"_

_Suddenly he heard a rather loud crash followed by a few loud bangs and a strangled yell._

_Draco's eyes flew to the door that stood between his apartment and the one next to it. He didn't really understand why there was a door there, hell, he didn't even know who lived there._

"_If I didn't know any better," Draco mumbled, "I'd say there was an orgy going on in there…"_

_Draco walked closer to the door and pressed his ear against it._

_And as soon as he did he heard a stream of curses and what sounded like a table being kicked over, followed by a yell, and through the door he could clearly understand the words._

"_WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE TO DIE?" _

_Draco's eyes widened._

"_Great… And I thought I'd left all the loonies back at Hogwarts."_


	2. Chapter 2

_Harry Potter stalked through the corridors at the Ministry of Magic, earning a few curious glances from his colleagues._

_But especially from Draco Malfoy._

_"What happened to you, Potter?" He asked with a sneer. "Did that little imaginary world you live in fall apart?"_

_Harry turned his steely glare towards Draco._

_"Yes." Harry said through clenched teeth and stalked away without another word._

_"What's wrong with him?" Draco asked a co-worker in the same tone with which he had asked Harry the same question._

_"Ya remember Ron Weasley?" The man asked, chewing gum in what Draco considered the most annoying way possible._

_"It bothers me when people answer questions with questions." Draco said testily. "But yes, unfortunately I failed to wipe that bloody weasel from my memory. Why?"_

_"He died of unknown causes, just last night."_

_The guy sounded more fascinated by that fact then saddened by it._

_"Hermione Granger was given a months paid vacation, she says she needs to grieve."_

_"And Potter didn't?" Draco asked._

_"Nope, I heard he turned it down, says that he wants to try to live his life."_

_Draco walked away without another word._

_"The funerals next Sunday!" He yelled after Draco._

_Draco turned around for a moment._

_"And I care, why?"_

_"All of the people that worked with Ron are invited."_

_"Oh goodie, I get to go see them stick a weasel in the dirt. Like I give a rubbish." And walked toward his cubicle._

_**That Sunday**_

_"Stupid lousy Potter." Draco muttered angrily as he walked through the graveyard towards the crowd gathered around a casket about to be lowered into a grave._

_His boss had said that everyone should show up._

_Everyone knew what that meant._

_So Draco showed up, at the very end. Draco came to a stop as Granger dropped the first Rose on Weasleys casket and they began to lower it._

_Granger was in tears, and Potter looked damn close to it._

_"It'll be alright Hermione," Harry said softly._

_Hermione turned and glanced at Ginny, and Draco thought he saw a glare cross her face._

_"I know it will," Hermione replied tearfully, turning and facing her friend again. "It just doesn't feel like it."_

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_Ginny Weasley stepped into her apartment and tears immediately flooded her eyes._

_The funeral had been awful, her mother had cried through the whole thing and Ginny had barely been able the keep herself together._

_She closed the door behind her and headed for the kitchen, and the ever-loyal bottle of brandy she kept, eyeing her cats soiled litter box momentarily._

_She decided she'd deal with that later, and reached for brandy instead, but just as she got the bottle in her hand, she heard a knocking at the door._

_Ginny sighed._

_"Crap." She muttered, and wiped her eyes clear before answering the door._

_It was Hermione._

_"I'm sorry Ginny, I don't mean to intrude but when I went home he was... he was just everywhere..." She sobbed._

_"Oh no Herm, you're not intruding!" Ginny said, taking Hermione into her arms. " You're like a sister to me and I know you must be hurting."_

_They walked into the apartment and Ginny sat Hermione down in a chair before reaching for two wine glasses out of a cabinet._

_"Would you like to talk about it?" Ginny asked as she poured the brandy and handed Hermione a glass._

_"I just walked in and he was laying on the floor..." Hermione's voice cracked, and she broke into tears again._

_As Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione, she could've sworn she felt Hermione's muscle clench tightly as though she felt uncomfortable._

_'That's strange...' Ginny thought as she pulled back and looked at Hermione._

_Hermione looked at Ginny oddly for a moment before taking a sip of the brandy._

_"What just happened?" Ginny asked, something felt wrong._

_"Oh nothing." Hermione said. "You don't have to baby me Ginny, you're younger than I am."_

_Ginny arched a brow and sat down._

_"I was just trying to make you feel better..." Ginny started._

_"Well you don't have to, I killed Ron I think I can take the after-affects." Hermione said, as if she were stating the next days weather._

_"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked, as she stood back up._

_"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Ginny dear. I killed Ron, I can tell by the look on your face that you know it's true." Hermione replied coolly, standing up._

_Ginny took a few steps back, backing into her kitchen counter as she saw Hermione raise her wand._

_"Imperio." She muttered and Ginny stiffened._

_Hermione quickly pulled out a piece of paper and a quill, and set them on the counter._

_"Write the following words in your own handwriting." She ordered._

_A few minutes later Hermione ended the spell._

_Ginny looked around, momentarily confused then looked at the paper on the counter._

_" ' To whomever may be reading this' " She read aloud " ' I have decided to take my own life. If someone as innocent as my brother can be killed in this world, I see no reason to stay in it. The world is cruel, and I don't think I can take any more. I love you mom, and I'm sorry. All my love, Ginny.' What the hell!"_

_She swiveled around and saw Hermione standing behind her holding a dagger in her right hand._

_The phone rang, Hermione saw "Potter, Harry" on the caller ID._

_" 'Yea noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!' " Before Ginny had time to react, Hermione's arm thrust forward, driving the dagger into Ginnys chest. " ' This is thy sheath.' "_

_Ginny slid slowly down the counter._

_"Hermione..." She said, her voice raspy._

_Hermione leaned forward and pecked Ginny on the forehead._

_"Goodbye my little sister, sleep well." She said softly, before grabbing her wine glass and apparating away._

_The last words Ginny heard were from the answering machine._

_"Hi Gin, this is Harry. Anytime you need to talk, just give me a call. I'm always here for you..."_

_---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Ginevra Weasley's funeral was a rather small, personal affair. One that Harry Potter did not attend._

_He sat at his desk staring at a picture, which held Ron, Hermione, Ginny and himself forever in its frames. Suddenly, he was very much disturbed by the thought of that picture._

_Both Ron and Ginny were captured there, forever young with no idea that either of them would die at such a young age. Everyone in the photograph was smiling and laughing._

_Harry wondered if their picture-selves would want to know. Or if he could tell them if they did? Or if they knew sign language so he could tell them?_

_Harry slumped forward onto his desk, he had reached a new level of low. He was considering learning sign language so he could talk to photographs of dead people._

_The door opened._

_"Harry..." It was the minister, Harry's head snapped up. "Are you alright?"_

_"Yeah, yeah... I'm fine." Harry replied in an entirely unconvincing tone._

_The minister's eyebrow arched as he crossed his arms._

_"No," Harry suddenly announced. "No, I'm not alright, I think I'm going to take that vacation now."_

_"Alright Mr. Potter, don't let me stand in your way." The Minister said with an extravagant wave of his arms, motioning the door and grabbing Harry's cloak in one swoop._

_Harry almost grinned._

_"Thanks sir." Harry said, standing up and taking his cloak._

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_"DAMN THAT PHONE!" Harry yelled, it was bloody nine o'clock at night, couldn't people call at a decent hour these days?_

_He picked it up._

_"What?"_

_"Mr. Potter?"_

_"That's what it says on my license, who's this?" Harry asked irritably._

_"This is Mr. Davis from the crime lab. I called to tell you the results of the autopsy on Ms.Weasely."_

_"Okay... But why me and not her parents?"_

_"Her parents weren't available at this time and your phone number was the only one on the list that got an answer." Mr. Davis from the crime lab explained._

_"Okay, now. What about the autopsy?" Harry asked, he was hoping to get this conversation through with as quickly as physically possible._

_"The angle of the puncture wound was disproportionate to signify a suicide." He said all that very quickly, as if trying to break it to him in the fastest way possible_

_"English!" Harry snapped, this didn't sound good._

_"The angle of the stab wound wasn't at the right angle to actually be a suicide." Mr. Davis explained, slower this time._

_"So you're saying...?"_

_"It wasn't suicide, it was murder."_


	3. Chapter 3

_"Malfoy!" The minister yelled, Draco turned sharply around._

_"Yes?" He said through clenched teeth and a forced smile._

_"One more thing before you go, I need you to take this to Mr. Potter." He then handed Draco a large stack of paperwork._

_"What...! Why me? I don't even know where the git lives!" Draco said, more than a little bit peeved. Not only had his boss kept him working late but now he was asking Draco to do something else?_

_"Well, since he lives right next door to you, I find that very surprising." The minister said, feigning a look of utter shock._

_Draco could've slapped himself... The yell. "WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE TO DIE!" So purely Potter-ish after the Weasels death. Why hadn't he thought of it before!_

_"Whatever." Draco said and walked out of the office._

_'If he doesn't answer after five knocks, I'm leaving.' Draco thought savagely as he stood outside Harry's apartment, paperwork under one arm and the other raised with the fist resting against the door as if he had just knocked._

_But he hadn't, he was just standing there, preparing to knock. This was Harry Potters home for goodness sake!_

_With a resigned sigh, Draco finally knocked, expecting no one to answer. It was, after all nearly ten o'clock at night._

_That's why he was so shocked when the door was flung open roughly before he could even pull his hand back to knock again._

_"I brought you..." Draco started but was interrupted by Harry grabbing him roughly by the collar and shoving him against the wall on the other side of the hallway. The paperwork fell to the floor, but oddly enough, landed in a neat stack._

_"What the hell!" Draco demanded, feeling very claustrophobic this close to someone he had hated since he could hate._

_But upon closer inspection he could see that Harry's eyes were bloodshot and his face was covered with a thin film of sweat or tears._

_"Why did you do it?" Harry asked softly. "They never did anything to you!"_

_"What the bloody hell are you going on about, Potter? I just came here to give you some paperwork from the minister. Somehow when he told me to do so, he didn't mention that being manhandled was part of the job description." Draco yelled right at those red-flecked green eyes._

_'Hey! Christmas colours!' He thought vaguely, having the sudden urge to break into a Christmas carol. Then he remembered he was plastered against the wall by a very much angry Harry Potter._

_"Ginny didn't kill herself, it was murder. And I'm still waiting for the lab results from Ron's autopsy but I'll bet anything he was poisoned. So, why'd you do it!" Harry yelled, and Draco noted the beginning signs of tears in his eyes._

_Draco closed his eyes and sighed._

_"Listen, I don't know what to tell you. Besides of course, I wasn't exactly fond of either of them but you know bloody well if I wanted to kill someone then I would use magic. And besides, how could I have killed either of them? Like they would let me into their houses!" Draco explained as rationally as he could to the screaming madman pinning him to the wall._

_"Rubbish." Harry said, letting go of Draco, and backing into the wall across from him._

_"So, you realize that it wasn't me, eh?" Draco asked, from the floor where he had slid when Harry released him._

_Harry sat on the floor across from him, and a cream coloured cat slinked out of Harry's apartment and crawled into Harry's lap._

_Harry looked at the cat mournfully as it meowed. He had inherited it from Ginny._

_"Yeah, I'm sorry about attacking you and all. I've just been on edge lately." Harry said, turning and facing Malfoy again._

_"Considering that your best friends were possibly murdered, I'd be a bit surprised if you weren't." Draco replied, standing up and brushing his robes off. "Well, there's the paperwork, as promised. Be sure to owl the Minister, I don't think he believes that I would give it to you. I could've sworn I heard him say something about not throwing it out the window as I was leaving."_

_Draco walked forward, stepping over the paperwork to the door to his apartment and sticking the key in the keyhole._

_"Wait," said Harry from the floor, Draco paused momentarily and turned around. "You live there?"_

_"Yeah, bit closer to the office." With that Draco turned the knob and walked inside his apartment._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Harry looked back and forth between the bottle of scotch in one hand, the phone in the other, and the couch that looked so enticingly at him from across the room._

_He could call Hermione... But then again, he could finish his scotch and take a nap on the couch..._

_The great decisions of life..._

_Harry's eyelids drooped, so he of course, chose the latter. Harry leaned forward and unplugged the phone._

_"That'll teach you to ring at me, you bastard." Harry said drunkenly, emphasizing this with a good kick before stumbling across the room and laying down on the couch, slopping some scotch onto himself in the process._

_Ginnys cat crawled up onto the couch next to him and laid down for a moment, it raised it's nose in the air and sniffed the scotch._

_Looking disgusted, it hopped back down and decided that curling up the corner was a far better option._

_Suddenly, Harry's eyes fell onto the paperwork and he stood up. He had to owl the minister, tell him that he got the paperwork and that his friends were murdered._

_Well, maybe he'd save the last part until they were face to face. Then he remembered that Hedwig was sending a sympathy card to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley right now._

_Perhaps if Harry wasn't drunk, he would've realized that Hedwig would probably be back in the morning and he could send the Minister a letter after he'd rested._

_But he was indeed drunk and he decided that the only logical thing to do would be to go tell Draco Malfoy to send the owl himself, because Harry couldn't._

_So he walked out of his apartment, mostly empty bottle of scotch still attached to his hand and knocked on Draco's door._

_"What!" Came the irritable response, before the door was roughly flung open to reveal an only slightly disheveled looking Draco Malfoy._

_Of course, Draco looked pristine in comparison to Harry, who was in flannel pyjamas, glasses falling off his face and hair in such a state of disarray that it appeared that a bird could've made quite a comfortable nest in it._

_"What happened to you?" Draco demanded, before eyeing the bottle of scotch in Harry's hand. "Ah, the evils of alcohol. Now what important revelation did you want to reveal to me, Potter? Have you come to confess your undying love for me?"_

_Draco leaned against the doorframe and examined his fingernails._

_"No...Malfoy..." Harry managed to slur out. "I don't love yew...I...My owls not here so yer goin to have te send that owl yerself."_

_"You came here to tell me that?" Draco asked, standing up straight and looking Harry in the eyes._

_"Yes."_

_"Oh, well then. I'm going to have to tell you something in all honesty. Do you want to know what it is?" Draco asked, leaning forward, a big grin plastered on his face._

_"Yeah." Harry replied with childish curiosity._

_Draco's grin seemed to fall off and be replaced by a smirk._

_"You are a complete idiot." And slammed the door in his face._

_"Always wanted to do that." Draco said with a satisfied smirk to his closed door._


End file.
